


Wilting Roses

by eternalwrites



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abuse, Abused Draco, Angst, Anxiety, Bullying, Child Abuse, Depressing, Depression, F/M, Fred Lives, Hogwarts Seventh Year, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Remus Lupin Lives, Slight Dumbledore Bashing, luna and draco are best friends, more shall be added, rude harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2018-09-02 15:39:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8672983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternalwrites/pseuds/eternalwrites
Summary: Calling back everyone for eighth year, Draco finds himself alone with nobody to talk to other than Luna Lovegood, who he secretly considers as his best friend. He wishes to be friends with Harry Potter and his two friends, but with Potter insulting him at every turn, it’s caused Draco to close off just a bit more.





	1. An Overview

Fidgeting was a habit that Draco developed at an early age. His father was annoyed by the common act, degrading his son on a daily basis about it. His mother did not care for the habit but never chose to comment upon it, other than to smack him upside the head if they had guests over. If Draco was caught fidgeting at a party, his father would send him upstairs to his room, where he would wait until the party was finished in the late evening. His father would then proceed to lecture him, and then beat him with a belt for a good five minutes. At that early age, he learned to cease his crying for it would only anger his father more.

His habit continued until the age of eight, where his father and mother were gone for weeks on end, leaving him in the care of his godfather Severus and the house elf Dobby. Severus didn’t degrade him but taught him with patience that even Severus himself didn’t know he possessed. He excelled at the simple education his godfather taught him.

Dobby was his personal house elf, but he was also someone Draco considered as a close friend. Draco told Dobby everything, from wild dreams of his to everything he loved to do in his spare time.

“I think, I would actually like to be a healer.” Draco admitted one day. The two were out in the gardens while Severus was down in his lab. “Father wants me to take over his spot in the Ministry of Magic, but I don’t know. It seems so boring.” His thoughts traveled to his father’s ideals for him.

“If that is what Young Master truly wishes, he should do what he wants.” Dobby’s higher squeaky voice broke him out of his musings.

Draco sighed, ignoring the sympathetic glance of his house elf. “The only flaw in that plan is that if I speak a word of stepping outside the Malfoy perfection standards, Father would beat me bloody and then disown me. With nothing to back me up on, I’d be better off dead.” His voice turned bitter, and with that, the house elf understood the silent wish to drop the topic.

Contrary to his father's beliefs, Draco considered house elves as simply delightful to be around. They all had different backgrounds, and would never chastise Draco for asking too many questions. They agreed to teach him how to cook and clean, and out of respect and gratitude, he taught them how to read. Draco loved helping out and interacting with the house elves, while his father beat most of them daily, claiming that they need to be taught who was in charge if one did anything out of perfection.

It was extremely hard to make his father proud of him. All he heard on a daily basis were vicious words of how "bloody stupid" and worthless he was. He picked up his old fidgeting habit on the day he got his Hogwarts letter. He was barely feeling excited, the feeling of nausea from anxiety overpowering his entire body as he handed over the letter to his father. Lucius’s eyes scanned the letter quickly before giving a snort of disgust claiming, “Why should they bother sending the letter, it's obvious you won’t be very strong.” And with that, left his son in the hall who was shaking slightly but sighed, making his way up to his room.

It was his mother who decided to pity him and take him to Diagon Alley the next day. Both son and mother drew up their Malfoy facade of arrogance and esteem. The trip seemed to fly past him in flashes, the most prominent being when he met the strange boy in Madam Malkin's. The boy seemed angry when Draco started talking about Hogwarts subjects and then to Hagrid, who was standing outside the shop. Draco brought up his father’s views, not confirming or denying if he agreed with them. Eventually, the other boy snapped at him before paying and storming out of the shop. It was obvious that Draco had annoyed him, but he had figured that all wizards had the same viewpoints. All of his father’s friends certainly did.

The memory replayed in his head until the day he boarded the train, everything replaced with his father angrily hissing degrading terms to his son before shoving him onto the train. Draco had put up a cool, calm facade, locking it in place and hiding that key for years.

The entirety sixth year went differently. Draco was a complete mess, having almost daily panic attacks. He redeveloped his fidgeting habit, he missed classes and lashed out with his emotions, whilst trying to figure out a plan in obeying the Dark Lord’s orders. He had thought that if he kept his head down long enough, there would be no reason for anyone to suspect him. Other than Potter of course, who always seemed keen on blaming him for everything. When Potter had caught up to him in the girl's lavatory and cast the Sectumsempra spell on him, he was almost grateful that he was dying. He was slightly annoyed but grateful when Severus had come in at that moment, healing his wounds which left large, angry red scars on his chest.

After that incident, he had no choice but to follow the Dark Lord’s orders straight. It was that night that he let the Death Eaters into the school, where he watched as the Headmaster get hit with the killing curse, falling from the top of the astronomy tower. It was that moment where he realized his anxiety from the beginning of the year grew the strongest, barely swallowing down his upcoming panic attack. He knew he couldn’t show any sign of weakness, and that’s how his life was for the next year. Praying that somehow, someway, Potter would be able to save him and the rest of the wizarding world.


	2. A New Friend

Draco awoke to the sound of his compartment door closing softly. It was obvious from the quiet movements whoever entered did not wish for Draco to wake up. Opening a single eye slowly, he noticed with surprise who was sitting across from him. Luna Lovegood was flipping through the Daily Prophet, legs crossed. She had changed into her uniform already, the blue Ravenclaw badge standing out against the black. Blonde hair pulled into a messy ponytail, left over strands pulled behind her ears. His voice was shakier and hoarser than he’d like to admit. 

“If you’re going to hex or curse me, why haven’t you done so yet?” He watched terrified but amused when the girl jumped at the sudden noise. He thought she would take out her wand and hex him to unconsciousness and use an Unforgivable for good measure. Instead, Luna smiled at him. He wasn’t sure if it was a threatening smile or if it was a genuine one. She had never done anything to him, but she was a prisoner in his old manor. He had snuck her and the other prisoner's extra water and food when he could, but that didn’t mean that they would treat him with respect. 

“I’m not here to hurt you, Draco,” Luna spoke after a few moments of silence. “I remember how you treated me and others in Malfoy Manor, even with the risk of Voldemort finding out. It was always a risk getting extra food for us, healing our wounds, but you continued to do so anyways. You refused to torture us, although it usually meant you getting hurt yourself. Many of our classmates aren’t going to be happy to see you, because of who your parents were. In short, I do wish for us to be friends.” Her voice was firm but gentle. Her posture was not tense, he observed, which spoke in defense of her sincerity. He hadn’t realized he was holding his breath until he breathed out a sigh of relief. 

“Why in the world would you want to become friends with a known Death Eater?” Draco's laugh was bitter. “I know what people have said, are saying. Why would you want to associate yourself with someone who was on the wrong side of the war?”

“There is no right or wrong when it comes to a matter of opinion. Voldemort’s opinion was based upon old religious constructs. His group were people who shared those ideals, and those who were forced in, like you. While you might have shared these views, it's obvious that you don't now. And that is all that matters for the future. If people want to talk, they will. That's what people do. I'm not ashamed to be your friend. That's the end of it.” Luna knew her speech wouldn't convince Draco to let his guilt aside. She hoped it would give him a bit of a nudge, a clear head though. And if Draco’s eyes had become glossy throughout the entire ordeal, she wouldn't mention it. Nor would she mention the shy “thank you” that slipped from his lips. 

There they sat on the train to a place the held good and bad memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I totally lost interest in writing for a long time but recently got back into thanks to the encouragement of my friends and your guys' comments. I don't really know when I will update again but thanks for sticking around.


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